On the Weakness of Hearts
by FloatingCow
Summary: He screams himself raw before cutting off abruptly, hands creeping ever so slowly away. His head turns slowly, meeting the horrified eyes of his friends. "Actually," blood pools from his eyes, "I'm starting to feel much better now." -For Noct-Whump-Week day 2-


There's fire in his veins and poison in his lungs.

Noctis coughs, the raspy feeling jolting him awake. He's laying on his back, blue and black dragonflies fluttering around him.

They are the only source of light he can see, the world outside their short range an abyssal black.

Noctis coughs again, suddenly choking for air. He flips over, knees and elbows scraping the stone flooring as he tries to breathe.

A glittering blue dragonfly lands on him and, like roots, sickness spreads through him where it touches. Noctis cries out, lashing back at it with his arm before curling inwards on himself in pain.

"Where am I?" His shaking voice echoes through the darkness. He drools in pain, and when it drops to the floor it is as dark as the world around him.

Groaning loudly, he clutches at his stomach and rests his forehead against the cold tile. There was _something_ sickly stirring just under his skin. It boils just beneath, forcing a crescendoing cry from him.

He slams his head into the ground, and suddenly that feeling is gone - _all_ pain is gone.

Breathing deeply, he pulls his feet under him and stands slowly, limbs feeling far heavier and unstable compared to normal. The glowing dragonflies flutter closer, and he swipes at them again to shoo them away.

The light attached to his jacket does little to illuminate the area once he turns it on. A statue of a horned man crouches in front of him, the moisture collected on its metallic surface glistening in the dim light.

The fearsome visage it bears does little to shake him, and he instead walks around it - wandering into an unknown direction and heeding the pull that tells him it's the right way.

Noctis doesn't question it, not as it leads him through empty stone corridors, not as it guides him over endless black pits, and not even as it forces him passed beds of molten spikes.

Something pulls him, and he just follows it.

The air ripples in his wake like water on a still pond - this place was _empty_. His very presence was a disturbance to it, he didn't belong.

"I'm here, is there anyone else?" He calls in vain. The words travel far here, reverberating down the long, dark corridors and extending into the endless chambers.

There is no reply.

He was _alone_.

Solitude creeps into him, churning his stomach and reminding him of the pain from earlier. The cold pit in his stomach reminds him he is sick, it grounds him and he takes a moment to breathe.

A hallway expands long and tall before him, but his eyes and the light are unable to pierce the darkness as it pushes in on all sides. It's claustrophobically black.

Noct's breath quickens with his pace.

He's sick, and he needs to leave - to _escape._ He needs to get out.

With each step, his eyes adjust more. With each step, he gets nearer to the entrance. With each step, the fear of the empty blackness turns to fear of being trapped.

As his heels click against the stone tile, he finds himself less and less rushed. The darkness proves to be no problem as he wanders, instead he soon finds it and the emptiness of the halls alluring. Even though he knows his friends are probably worried about him, loneliness does not eat at him.

Heat does instead.

A wall of bright, red-hot spikes lines the opening of a narrow passageway before him.

 _It's too hot_ , he thinks. The spikes seem to buzz with heat and energy, too much for Noct to handle. His vision draws onto the closest spike, everything else vanishing away as he focuses on just that particular one. It was hot, it was _bright_.

He reaches out and grabs it.

The smell of burning flesh reaches his nose instantly. He numbly pulls his hand away, unnoticing of how it peels his skin stuck to the spike. He holds it up in front of his face to stare at it.

"Oh." He says with childlike confusion.

He flexes his fist, hissing as the skin on his palm cracks and rips. Eyes widening, the pain hits him all at once. Noctis screams and clutches his arm, curling protectively over it.

Breath escapes him in pained pants, and a whimper escapes at the idea of what he had just done. Noctis rips a shred of cloth from his jacket and ties it around the open flesh at his hand.

Heat pools through him, so he takes the rest of his jacket off, wincing as the light attached to it flashes his eyes. Pulling it free from the jacket and letting the garment drop to the floor, Noctis attaches it to his belt.

The cool pit returns to his stomach, reminding him that he is sick - and that soon, he may be getting sicker.

Noctis glances up, spotting a massive room at the end of the corridor. It looks vaguely familiar, Noctis thinks maybe he has been there before.

Each groggy step takes him closer to it, and yet at the same time the corridor seems to stretch the closer he gets. Noctis slumps against a wall, sliding down against it until he is sitting.

Gravity seems to sway, with the endless corridor twisting and turning. His insides churn again and Noctis curls inward.

"C'mon, c'mon!" He grumbles out. Slapping at his face to regain his focus, Noctis shakily pushes himself to his feet. Each step is forced, and when he sways again the light on his waist flashes his eyes.

"Gah!" He cries out, shielding his eyes and ripping it from his belt. Noctis tosses it far from sight, not missing the light it provided in the least.

Despite the lack of natural lighting, his eyes had adjusted enough to see better without it.

Hunching over, he wipes the sweat from his brow. A clammy hand reaches out to the wall to stabilize him as he stands back up and drags himself towards the open chamber.

Glitters of blue and black linger at the very edge of his vision - the dragonflies from earlier had been following him. Drawn to him like moths to a flame, or flies to a corpse.

Noctis snorts at the idea, curling a hand around his midsection protectively.

Something metallic creeps up and into the back of his mouth, sliding along the side of his teeth. He swallows the bitter liquid back down before he is forced to acknowledge what it is.

When he finally makes it to the chamber, he gags and throws a hand over his mouth to keep his last meal down - whatever and whenever that was. His fingers grow damp regardless, and when he pulls them away they are slick with velvety blood.

Astonished, Noctis wipes at his nose, coming away with more. Covering it in an attempt to stem the blood, he waits for his nosebleed to pass.

The flow eventually stops as he ascends a set of stairs next to the fallen head of what had likely once been a massive statue. Noctis thinks it may have been a depiction of Titan, but other than that pays it no mind.

The gods had no place here.

Scattering as he comes tot the top of the stairs, the dragonflies finally leave Noctis to return to wherever they had come from. Uninterested, Noctis wanders down the hall before of him to stand in front of a vividly bright, glowing disc.

He reaches out to touch it, and leaves Pitioss with a _click._

The elevator ascends into broad daylight, and the sudden intensity of the change has Noctis crumpling to the ground and clutching at his eyes in agony. He snarls out, and squirms closer to the shade. The light seems to burn all the way through his eyelids and into his retinas.

Panting, he takes a moment to collect his bearings. The blinding light eventually dims as his eyes are forced to adjust, but even as he opens them he still winces in pain.

He shields his eyes from the sun as he stands, grateful of the black cinders that make up the earth around him for absorbing most of the light.

Except - _everything burns._

The burning pain from before returns a thousand times full. It felt as if his very flesh, as if something _inside_ him was boiling him from the inside out. As if his very veins pumped acid, pumped _fire_.

Noctis stumbles backwards, back against the wall as he claws at his flesh. He rips his shirt off, panting as he attempts rid himself of the heat. Sweat rolls down his bare skin and muscles, dropping apathetically to the floor as Noctis screams.

 _Screaming won't solve the problem,_ Noctis thinks, cutting off his cry abruptly. He would have to fix it himself.

Back ridged, he stands and makes his way down the trail leading away from the dungeon. The cinders crunch under his feet as he walks with purpose.

The trail leads him down to an open area, where his three friends wait. From the looks of it, they had just finished a battle with the nearby wildlife. Ignis and Prompto have their weapons at their side, both crouching in front of Gladio as Ignis applies a potion to a cut on his arm.

Prompto's the first to spot him. The blond jumps to his feet with a cry and runs to meet him. The action alerts Ignis and Gladio and they turn, hot on Prompto's heels.

"Noct!" Prompto shouts, stopping just short of him.

"Whoa." Prompto says, spotting the blood speckling his face and bare chest.

"Noct, you're hurt." Ignis reaches out to check him for wounds. Noctis ignores it and tries to walk around them, frowning as they crowd him.

"I'm okay. Let's just get out of here." Irritation laces his voice. Something in his voice causes all of Ignis's hairs to stand on end. He steps in front of Noctis, blocking him from moving any further.

"What happened?" Gladio beats Ignis to asking. There's a hint of unease in his voice, letting Ignis know he's not the only one sensing something _off._

Noctis eyes narrow. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? You have a bloodstain coming from, like, your ear." Prompto points out, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Ignis reaches out to inspect, but Noctis bats him away, "I'm _fine._ "

The group pause in a stare-down, ending only as Noctis turns away. He is stopped once again by Ignis.

"Noctis," Ignis grabs his shoulder, eyes deadly serious, "You are not okay."

Noctis pulls away, stepping back from his friends.

"Not okay?" He echoes. A frown mars his face and his nose crinkles.

No one says anything. His stomach sinks, he was feeling oddly cold. He felt _sick._

"No," he breathes, falling to his knees, "No, I'm not."

Eyes widening manically, his nails bite into his skin as he covers his face. He arches back.

"I'm not okay - I'm not okay - I'm notokay- _I'mnotokay-notokaynotokay_ -"

He screams himself raw before cutting off abruptly, hands creeping ever so slowly away. His head turns slowly, meeting the horrified eyes of his friends.

The world crawls to a standstill.

"Actually," blood pools from his eyes, "I'm starting to feel much better now."

He coughs and black ichor bubbles from his mouth, quickly increasing in flow as it starts to stream down his chest.

The blood spilling from his eyes is replaced by an inky darkness, and he looks down at his hands. Black tears stain them and the ash below as they fall from his cheeks.

"Noctis..." Ignis gasps. Noctis looks up at him.

"See," he holds his hands up and stands, "I'll show you."

His friends stumble into each other as they try to back away. Frowning, his hands fall to his sides.

"N-Noctis?" Prompto's eyes are glossy when Noct meets them.

"C'mon now, don't be like that." Lips stretching into a wicked grin, his teeth are practically baring at them. "You're my friends, right? Why don't you come here?"

Blackness seeps between his fingers as he holds a hand out for them.

"Fuck that." Ignis says, readying his daggers, "Forgive my language, but you are clearly not yourself."

"Ignis." Gladio's voice betrays his alarm, "I can't summon my sword."

Ignis can't help but let his eyes snap back to Gladio, " _What?_ " he breathes.

Prompto drops his gun, and when it doesn't disappear in a flash of blue sparks he panics, "Oh no."

"What, you guys aren't seriously thinking about using those on me, are you?" Noctis had suddenly come much closer during the time Ignis's eyes were off him. Ignis stumbles back, kicking up ash in his surprise.

"Noctis, listen. We need to get you help." He tries. Prompto comes up beside him, equally as desperate to pacify Noctis.

"Buddy, what's wrong?"

Noctis tilts his head, the manic expression from earlier wilting away. He looks down, hair curtaining his eyes.

"It _burns_." He hisses through clenched teeth.

"Please, tell us how to make it stop." Prompto dares a step forward.

"Snuff out the light." His voice is lethal, and when he looks up to meet their eyes, his own are a sickly gold. "Including your own."

Hate twists his smile, and he extends his hands outward. The black liquid pooling from his body suddenly becomes gaseous, swirling around them in a vortex.

Ignis pulls his hands in front of his face and watches the other two do the same. He tilts his head up as the thick, black cloud blocks the sun from them.

The howling wind forces him to shout, "Noct's not himself! Do everything in your power to subdue him." Ignis turns to fix a stare at Noct, expression turning grim, "Forgive me, Your Highness. Please, don't fight us!"

The black vapor continues to spill from his hands even as he clenches them into fists. Noctis tenses into a fighting stance, eyes narrowing.

When he charges, he does so without summoning a blade - leaving Ignis to wonder if he won't summon, or if he _can't_ summon.

Gladio steps in to meet Noctis, swiping at him and missing as Noctis nimbly dodges out of the way. _Dogding_ , not _phasing_ , Ignis notes again.

Noctis makes to move forward again, only having to retreat back as Prompto shoots the ground near his feet. Ignis backbends as Noctis swivels on his feet to roundhouse kick at him.

He isn't fast enough to dodge the punch Noctis sends his way after, however.

Blood spills from his nose as his head is whipped back, and Ignis only faintly notices he is on his back in the ash.

A minute passes by as he lays there, and then two and then five. The dizzy fog lifts enough for him to notice his surroundings without hurling.

His glasses are cracked, but even if they weren't his vision would still be blurred after taking such a hit.

The wall of the black vortex swirls just within arm's reach, and when he dazedly extends a hand to it, it _burns._ He yanks his hand away, biting back the pain as he struggles to his feet.

Noctis has Prompto by the throat when he rejoins the fight, the blond clawing at his friend's hands as he struggles to escape the burning grasp. Gladio bowls into Noct from behind, putting him into a chokehold and crying out as Noctis pulls at his bare arms.

Prompto drops, rolling away and staggering to Ignis's side.

"I can't summon any potions or remedies, Ignis-" Panic laces his voice, but Ignis ignores it for the time being. Gladio is finally forced to drop Noctis and retreat.

"That stuff's like acid - whatever it is he is producing." Gladio calls over to them. Ignis grimaces, wiping blood from the bridge of his nose where the glasses cut in. He calls out to Noctis.

"Noct! Stop please! It's killing you!"

The howling wind whips at Noct's hair as he stares them down, the golden hue of his eyes cutting through the darkness with ease. He doesn't acknowledge Ignis.

Ignis looks down at his hand where he had touched the wall of the vortex. It's red, as if he had touched a burner. It's the same color as Prompto's throat, as Gladio's arm - the same spots that had come into contact with Noctis.

But it _wasn't_ their skin that had burned - it was their _magic._ Noct's magic. And in a ways, _light_ \- as Noctis himself had spoken.

Like a fever killing an infection - Noct's magic was burning him from the inside out in an attempt to rid him of the scourge-like disease. That was why they couldn't summon, all of his magic was focused on saving his body.

Ignis readjusts his grip on his daggers, Noct's magic wasn't infinite - he would soon run out. What would happen when that time came and the infection was still there? There was no way to be sure that it would outlast the infection.

"Noctis!" He pleads once again, eyes growing damp, "I know it hurts, but _please_ trust me when I say that the light is what's saving you!"

In a twisted mockery of Noctis summoning his sword, the mist consolidates in his hand until it forms a solid, jagged spear. Ignis prays to any Astral listening to save their king.

Golden eyes meet green, and Noctis is no longer staring at Ignis, but staring _through_ him. Ignis has a split second to guard his face as the black mist rains down at him like needles of acid.

Time seems to slow as he looks through the haze towards Noctis. The other is charging at him, spear at his side, ready to deal the final blow. Tears swell up in the corners of Ignis's eyes, spilling over and rolling down his cheeks.

 _He's failed Noctis._

A gunshot rings out and Noctis suddenly falls to a knee. Blood spills between his fingers as he clutches the bullet wound in his thigh.

The assault of rain lets up instantly and Ignis is allowed to breathe once more, "Prompto..."

Prompto's breathing heavily, one the verge of hyperventilation, tears of his own running down his face and dropping from his nose and chin. His attention is called back to Noctis as he cries out in pain.

Noctis falls forward, one hand clutching the wound and the other clawing at the cinders to get to his friends. He sneers at them.

"Just -" He cuts himself off to growl out in pain, his body convulsing. Thunder rumbles overhead.

"What do we do?" Prompto asks Ignis, his trembling voice unable to reach the adviser.

Ignis takes a cautious step forward, deathly aware that the link tying them to Noctis was rapidly fading away. His magic would not be able to withstand the infection.

Noctis was out of time.

"Noctis..." His voice was thick and watery, so he clears his throat and tries again, "Noct."

Noct writhes on the ground before him, hatred and pain radiating off in waves. Ignis doesn't know if he can hear him, but he tries one last time.

"Forgive me."

A cry pierces the air as Noctis lurches up, clawing at his skin and drawing blood as he digs in deeper. He tears at his face a he gazes heavenward, screaming in agony.

Noctis cries. He cries in hate, in agony, in _grief._

Noctis looks to Ignis and begs.

"Kill me."

It chills them all to the bone. His cold command rolling off them like rain water.

"Never." Ignis isn't sure which one of them say it, or if they all had, but it was a command they could never carry out.

Lightning suddenly flashes down through the vortex, striking near them and sending them stumbling back. Light peaks in.

Gentiana stands at the opening, head tilted towards Ignis.

"We have come to answer your prayer." Her voice rings out like a bell. She extends a hand towards Noctis, "Hold him down."

With nothing left to lose, they obey.

Noctis is boiling when they grab him, but their grip remains steadfast against the pain. He fights against their hold, doing everything in his power to throw them off. They force him to the ground, pinning his arms and legs against the cinders.

A crackle draws all four's attention to the sky, lightning had opened up the vortex to expose raging thunder clouds.

Staff held high, Ramuh is posed above.

...

When Noctis comes to, it's two weeks later and under the light of a full moon.

His eyelashes flutter open slowly, only for him to wince at the light from the moon. Dazedly, he notices Ignis tighten his grasp on some chains. His lips are pursed thin as he watches Noct with caution - with suspicion.

For the most part, Noctis blearily ignores it, instead reaching out with his fingers along the stone of the haven he was lying on. They brush against one of the runes and he immediately pulls his fingers back at the burn.

Pain throbs from his leg and chest up to his head. He hisses in pain. Deep in his mind, he knows he should have stayed asleep.

His chest feels tight - not only from the chains that bind him but also from the raspy breaths he takes. Like he was trying to breathe passed poison.

"Noctis?" Ignis cautiously asks. His heavy-lidded eyes trail over to Ignis, and then to Gladio and Prompto - all watching him with bated breath.

"How do you feel?" Ignis asks.

Noctis looks away, back up at the far-away stars above them.

" _Sick._ "

* * *

 **Haha, its gonna take alittle more than a zap of magic to cure Noctis of this. He's gonna need an exorcist and some good ol' Oracle healing if he hopes to get back to normal.**

 **Anyway, sorry for this super-rushed(and still late), super-indulgent, word vomit. I want to really thank you guys for reading!**

 **I wish I had more time to work on this and to do all the other whump-week prompts - I loved all of them and wish I could've had the time to actually do all, but I've been out in the field every day on this excursion. Maybe next year.**

 **Damnatio Memoriae should be out in August still, and I'm hoping updates will be quicker from then on since I have less classes next semester(but I will be working more on my thesis :P).**

 **I'm sure there are plenty of mistakes, but I want to thank you all again for reading!**

 **I'll see you later!**


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